“Whoa there, Bobby. He’s gonna get ya if you ain’t careful. He looks like a real fighter,” the man with the AK-style rifle warned his friend. Rattled by Gunner’s attempt to get a mouthful of one of them, he gathered his composure and retrained his muzzle on the dog. “Easy there, big boy. This’ll be over soon.”

  Ben didn’t know what that meant exactly, and he didn’t plan on giving these two clowns enough time to show him.

  Chapter Ten

  “I want you guys to stay here. You should have a clear shot from this position,” Ben whispered as he eyed the two gunmen and Gunner. His intention wasn’t for Joel to take any action from here, but the large oak provided good cover, if it came to that. The large rock jutting out from the side of the hill a short distance down the path was where Ben planned to take his shot. Joel and Brad would be his backup.

  “Which one do you want me to take out?” Joel asked. The question surprised Ben. He had intended on dealing with both targets himself.

  “I got it. Just be ready to back me up. I’ll start with the one holding the rifle,” Ben responded.

  “Dad, I can handle it,” Joel argued. Ben still wasn’t comfortable with asking his son to do these types of things. It wasn’t because he was under the illusion he was somehow saving his kids from the hellish experience their lives had become; that threshold had been crossed long ago. Rather, a voice in his head gave him pause, reminding him that their youth was being ruined one incident at a time. There was no un-pulling a trigger.

  “Just back me up,” Ben repeated before heading off down the trail. He saw the disappointment on Joel’s face but tried to ignore it. He would have to let go of the notion that he was capable of saving the kids from all the bad in this world—and soon. Next time. That was what Ben told himself, at least.

  Moving quietly, he crouched below the brush line and moved toward the rock, listening as he went. Gunner made a few more lunges at the gunmen while they discussed his fate. Then Ben heard something that got his attention, something other than two guys pretending to be tougher than they were.

  He didn’t make out all of it, but he recognized the words “Blazer” and “Colorado.” The two men were talking about them. Had they been watching them while they were fueling up? Maybe they were with the other guy. That didn’t really make any sense, though. He leaned into the rock and steadied himself behind the AR-15, taking a good look at the two gunmen through the Trijicon scope for the first time. Could the car that had been following them belong to these two?

  Ben zeroed in on the guy with the AK variant and immediately spotted a cryptic PH tattooed on his neck. These guys were with the Patriot Hooligans. The realization sent a chill down his spine. His fears were confirmed when he spotted a similar tattoo on the other man’s forearm. He’d really hoped to avoid these guys, but apparently that wasn’t going to be possible. It also made him wonder if the man he’d killed back at the gas station was one of the gang as well. He didn’t recall seeing any markings that would indicate he was, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  Ben listened intently while moving the crosshairs back to the man facing him. His priority was the man with the gun aimed at Gunner. The suppressed AR would give him the advantage, and with any luck, he should be able to get another shot off at the second man before he realized what was happening.

  Seeing Gunner like this pained him, but before taking the shot, he wanted to learn as much as he could about their plans. At least until he thought Gunner was in immediate danger. For now, they weren’t paying the dog much attention and seemed to be arguing among themselves. Ben glanced over at Joel and Brad through the briars, where they hid some fifteen yards away. Waiting for them to look his way, he held up a finger to his mouth, then to his ear. He didn’t want Joel’s impatience to get the best of him. Maybe Ben could learn something that would help them avoid any future encounters with this gang of murderous thieves. For all he knew, these two could have had a hand in the horrible things they found done to the couple at the RV.

  Finally, he had both boys’ attention. They nodded with the understanding that he wanted them to sit tight and listen.

  “Why don’t you just shoot the dog and get it over with? You really think they’re gonna hang around for a dog?”

  “Hey, I’m just doing what we were told. I ain’t about to cross the old man. Adams said we were to stay with the dog and keep it alive in case they needed it to barter. He said that order was straight from the top.”

  “Yeah, and they get to have all the fun while we’re babysitting a dog.” The man holding the AK poked at Gunner a little with the gun and quickly jumped back to avoid being bitten.

  The man holding the branch held up his hands. “He said they’d be here in half an hour or so and not to make a move until they got here.”

  “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun while we wait.” He held the butt of the AK in the air and made like he was going to strike Gunner but held back halfway through the swing.

  Ben eased his finger onto the trigger. Gunner snarled at the man and pulled against the rope in the opposite direction as far as the snare would allow.

  “You know, there’s something wrong with you.” His friend wasn’t impressed by the false bravado. “Remember what happened to Clayton? He didn’t listen to orders and the old man had him taken care of.”

  “Whatever,” the man with the AK huffed.

  Ben had heard enough. There were more of these goons on their way here. They needed to grab Gunner and get out of here ten minutes ago. Ben glanced over at the boys once more and nodded when they saw him. Steadying the crosshairs on the crudely drawn PH tattoo scratched on the man’s neck, Ben pulled the trigger.

  There was no kick from the AR, and the sound it made was more from the mechanical components of the gun than the explosion of gunpowder. Ben squeezed the trigger again out of instinct, but nothing happened this time. He pulled back the charging handle and watched as the spent casing from the previous shot ejected from the gun. The low-velocity ammunition didn’t have enough power to clear the brass and draw another round from the magazine.

  Ben lined up for the next shot, but the man with the AK was lying dead on the ground. Fortunately, his first shot had done its job. The second man, however, had realized what was happening and ran for his rifle, which leaned against a nearby tree.

  Crack! It was too late. But Ben hadn’t pulled the trigger this time.

  He recognized the familiar report of Joel’s AR-15 and knew his son had taken the shot even before he glanced over and saw the smoke slip through the slots of the muzzle brake. The man staggered and held his shoulder as he helplessly searched the woods for the shooter while continuing to stumble toward his rifle.

  Crack… crack!

  Joel let two more fly in rapid succession. This time the bullets struck the man squarely in the chest, and he went down hard before taking another step. Ben and the boys didn’t waste any time rushing the gunmen’s position. While Brad freed Gunner from the snare, Ben and Joel checked the two men for any signs of life. Ben discarded both the AK and the hunting rifle into the woods as far as he could throw them. It probably didn’t matter, but it felt better than leaving them lying around, and it was the least he could do. Why make things easy for these backwoods bandits?

  Joel stood motionless over the man he’d shot. The guy was still clinging to the branch he’d used to antagonize Gunner, his other hand clutching a fistful of earth.

  “You did good.” Ben tried to assure his son he’d done the right thing, but he couldn’t help thinking the suppressed AR had been a wasted effort after the three shots Joel fired off. He definitely wasn’t going to bring that up, and there was no time to stand around and process what they’d just done. Based on what they knew from eavesdropping on the conversation between the two men, they needed to kick it into high gear and clear out of the area.

  “We need to get moving. I assume you guys heard what they said?” Ben looked at each of the boys.

  “Yeah, more on the way.” Brad stayed on his knees and inspected Gunner for any wounds while giving the dog a good rubdown.

  “How’s Gunner look?” Ben asked.

  “Looks fine to me. Just a little worked up.” Brad stood up and let Gunner investigate one of the bodies. The dog showed little interest and quickly moved on to the man who’d threatened to clobber him with the butt of the AK-style rifle. Gunner circled the body cautiously, then proceeded to stop and unceremoniously urinate on the man. Ben had to admit, the action brought him a small measure of satisfaction, about as much as it could, considering their circumstances.

  Ben held the radio up to his face. “Sandy, come in. Have you guys moved yet? Over.”

  “We’re moving now. We heard the gunshots. Was that you? Are you okay? Over.”

  “We’re fine. Ran into a couple more bad guys. Headed to the rendezvous point now. Make sure everybody has their weapon handy and loaded. There’s more of these guys on their way.” Ben clipped the radio back on his belt before Sandy answered.

  “We’ll be ready and waiting.” Sandy’s voice sounded tense, and rightfully so, but the sound of the Blazer running in the background was music to his ears.

  “All right, guys. Let’s get moving.” It was going to be a hard push through this thicket and up the hill to the top of the gulch, but they had no choice. Going back the way they’d come wasn’t an option. Ben didn’t want the others waiting for them at the gas station, exposed to the main road. If the Patriot Hooligans were close, having the vehicles parked out of sight would buy them some time, and that was something he feared they were running out of quickly.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ben and the boys began their trek up the steeply sloped game trail of loose dirt and pea-sized gravel. The only thing worse than the poor footing was the constant encounter with the inch-long daggers that seemingly protruded from every direction. The thorn-covered vines made it impossible to grab any of the surrounding vegetation to gain better traction. On the other hand, the long tendrils of barbed-wire-like vines had no trouble grabbing hold of them and their clothing as they passed.

  Gunner was the least affected by the obstacles in their way. His low stature and built-in four-wheel-drive propelled him ahead effortlessly. Occasionally, he was kind enough to look back and wait as the men struggled to advance up the poor excuse for a trail.

  “We’re coming, boy. Go find Allie,” Joel huffed. Brad was doing the best at keeping up with Gunner, and Ben was bringing up the rear. He kept an eye out behind them, not sure about the specifics of the two gang members’ conversation. They had no idea where the rest of the gang was coming from. For all they knew, it could be a camp somewhere close by in these woods. It was safest to assume the worst, and in spite of the difficult climb back up to the road, Ben encouraged the boys to keep their weapons ready.

  Before they headed out, Ben had taken a few seconds to check both bodies, but unfortunately, neither of the gunmen had been carrying a radio. However, he knew they were communicating with the other gang members. How, exactly, would remain a mystery for now.

  “Come in, Ben. Over,” Sandy said.

  Ben finished moving up the incline before pulling the radio from his belt. The boys looked back at him, but he motioned for them to keep moving.

  “Go ahead. Over.” Ben tried not to sound as winded as he was. He was doing his best to keep up with the boys and Gunner, but the pain in his knee and side was becoming hard to ignore.

  “We’re in position. Probably a hundred yards down that road we talked about. We can’t see the highway from where we are anymore. Over,” Sandy answered.

  “Good, headed your way as fast as we can.” There was no need to elaborate on the difficulties they were having climbing out of the gulch, and he didn’t have the energy for it anyway.

  “One more thing. There’s a pickup parked on the shoulder not too far from us. It’s the big red chevy with the flags mounted to the back. Over.”

  Ben swallowed hard. Joel stopped and looked back at his dad.

  “Come on. Keep moving.” Ben forced his foot into the next tangle of vines that looked like it would support him. The two gunmen, and maybe the guy Emma had shot, probably belonged to that truck. Either way, that meant the members of the gang who were on their way here were more than likely headed for the exact spot where Sandy and the others were now waiting.

  Ben’s knee resisted, but he willed it through the motion of taking another step. The thought of the Patriot Hooligans reaching the others before him was a good motivator. He dug his rifle butt into the dirt and used it to pull himself another couple of feet up the incline.

  “Why don’t you take a look inside, see what you can find? Maybe a radio. Over.” Ben clipped the radio to his belt, even if it was temporary; he needed both hands to propel himself forward and keep up with the boys.

  “Okay, I’ll take a look. Over.”

  Ben unclipped the radio and paused again. “Be careful up there. Make sure someone stays on lookout. Over.”

  “Will do. Over,” Sandy answered quickly. The response was too casual for Ben’s liking and did nothing to alleviate the sinking feeling in his gut. Knowing his daughter was up there and growing sicker by the moment wasn’t helping things any. He really did hope they were paying attention and had someone dedicated to watching the highway for any signs of the gang. He wanted to push the issue, but there was no more time for talking. And he needed to use the rest of his strength to get up this hill.

  Ben heard Allie yell out to Gunner before he saw the ridgeline ahead. Finally, they had made it out of these godforsaken thorn-infested woods. He expected the vegetation to be thicker than in Colorado, but the mess he just clawed his way through was otherworldly.

  Joel was waiting for his dad at the end of the game trail and offered him a hand climbing onto the shoulder of the road. He turned back and glanced at the small opening he’d just squeezed out of and pried the last thorn-covered vine from his shirt. He and the boys both looked like they’d been wrestling stray cats.

  “You guys okay?” Ben rubbed his arms, feeling the scratches and knocking off the dried droplets of blood the thorns had extracted.

  Brad rubbed his arms as well. “Yeah, just a few scratches.”

  “I’m fine.” Joel was already halfway to the Toyota, where Allie was sitting with Ben’s M24 across the hood. When he reached her, the two hugged briefly before talking quietly among themselves. Ben watched them, and for a moment, he forgot about being in a hurry to get out of here. He was also somewhat surprised and amused to see Allie sitting behind the M24. She really wasn’t scared to step up and do what needed doing, and the image of her with his rifle was proof of that.

  “Look what I found.” Sandy approached from the other direction, waving a radio over her head, the small rubber antenna flopping from side to side. “It’s off.”

  She handed it to Ben, and he immediately looked it over. The small Uniden two-way was a little beat up, but the LED screen lit up a dull shade of blue when he spun the knob. He glanced at Sandy. “Channel eleven. Help me remember that.”

  “Eleven, got it.”

  “Anything else in there?” Ben surveyed the bright red Chevy pickup parked across the road. “Anything worth taking?”

  Sandy held up a small bag Ben recognized as one of their own. “A few boxes of bullets, a lighter, and a knife.” She shrugged.

  Ben thought for a moment as he stared at the Patriot Hooligan vehicle. He doubted it would be any better on gas than the Scout. It certainly wasn’t any better looking and had just as many over-the-top modifications. And the Scout still had a few advantages over the Chevy pickup. They could lock the Scout, although thanks to a busted rear window, that was a debatable advantage. But as ugly as the Scout was and despite its questionable upgrades, it was now a proven vehicle. They’d put some miles on the trucks since the moonshiners’ camp. Not as many as he would have liked, but enough to know the vehicles Joel and Allie had chosen from the compound were reliable.

  Ben wanted to disable the pickup, but he didn’t want to take the time to do that, not when the Patriot Hooligans were headed their way. He put it out of his mind and made his way to the Blazer to check in on Emma.

  “Em, honey, how are you holding up?” There was no answer. A bare leg poked out from under the sleeping bag, and Ben watched for a second as the down-filled covering rose and fell. He couldn’t imagine how she could be comfortable under there; the sweat was still dripping from the back of his head and onto his neck from their uphill trek out of the woods. He grabbed one of the dogs’ towels and dried himself quickly while doing his best to ignore the musty odor. He should have taken a clean one from the back, but the only thing on his mind was getting out of here and getting Emma the help she needed. This ordeal had cost them too much time already.

  “I made her drink some water before we moved the trucks, but I think she’s sleeping now.” Sandy joined him at the open door. Ben wasn’t convinced she was actually sleeping, but after all that had happened in the last half hour, he didn’t blame her for hiding under the sleeping bag and faking it, if that was in fact what she was doing. Emma had earned that much. And it was only because of her that one of them wasn’t nursing a gunshot wound or worse right now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ben turned his attention to Martin, who was milling about near the Scout and appeared to be daydreaming about better days. Standing there with his hands in his pockets and his weapon leaned against the Scout’s bumper, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. The sight irritated Ben, but he took a deep breath and bit his tongue until he thought of something better to say than what first came to mind.

  He spoke firmly: “Martin.”

  Martin spun around. “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “Ready to go?” Ben climbed into the Blazer but left the door open and let his leg with the bad knee hang straight for a moment longer before he committed to a position behind the wheel for who knew how many more hours.